


What are friends for?

by twistedmiracle



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Damaged boys, M/M, Matchmaker Pansy Parkinson, Meddling Friends, Pansy smokes, TM's drabbles, dinner party on a mission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-27
Updated: 2017-10-27
Packaged: 2019-01-23 22:40:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12518188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twistedmiracle/pseuds/twistedmiracle
Summary: Sometimes a friend needs a bit of a push.





	What are friends for?

"Draco," Pansy said earnestly. "Risk it." She took his hands and squeezed them.

"Pansy," Draco sighed, looking at the table. "It's far too great. I can't."

"It is _not_ , Pansy said, irritated. "We've been _over_ this. "He returned your wand. He spoke at your hearing. If he isn't gay I'll eat this cigarette. He _stares_ at you."

"No, he doesn't," Draco said, colouring.

"Yes he does," Pansy muttered, lighting another cigarette. "You just can't see it because you don't have eyes in your arse."

Draco blushed silently, and Pansy took the victory. A small victory. She'd win him over eventually.

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"Harry," Hermione said firmly. "Take the risk. Ask Draco out."

"I can't, Hermione," Harry stated firmly, forcefully stirring the stew. Always he had to have food cooking. His cupboards groaned but he never felt secure. When the war ended it was as though he'd stopped repressing childhood memories. His walls had all gone sky high.

"You need love, Harry." Hermione got up to chop carrots. She might as well help. Then maybe he'd listen.

"You love me," Harry said, defensive.

"You know what I mean," Hermione said, trying hard to sound calm. How long had they been fighting about this? 

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"Miss Granger," Pansy swallowed her nervousness and longed desperately for a cigarette. "May I speak with you?"

Hermione turned around, surprise clear in her eyes. But she let go of Weasley's hand. He stood still, towering over everyone else in the corridor, angry arms crossed over his chest. But he was silent as Granger walked away.

Pansy swallowed and spread her shoulders open. She could do this. 

"Can I help you?" Granger asked politely. With her arms full of books and parchments, a quill tucked behind her ear; she looked competent, important.

Pansy felt two feet tall, but she spoke.

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"Harry, I have decided. It's time. You must have a small dinner party. You will invite at least two Slytherins from our year. Luna will publish photos. It will be a gesture of reconciliation and reaching across to another side, another house, that you can make without ever leaving your house."

Harry looked shocked. He stood quickly and walked to the freezer, removing a bag of frozen, browned bananas. 

Hermione watched silently as he gathered flour, sugar, eggs. She knew if she waited long enough, he would speak.

"I can't," he finally said to his mixer.

"Yes, Harry, you _can_."

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"Thank you so much for welcoming us into your lovely home," Draco rushed out when Harry opened the door.

"Er," Harry said, "do come in?"

Luna snapped a photo and twirled in a circle. 

Pansy pulled Draco gently across Harry's threshold. "We brought bread and wine," she said, longing for a cigarette. 

Draco handed them to Hermione, who smiled sweetly. "Perfect!" she gushed. "Tonight will be delightful, I feel sure. You know Justin and Hannah, of course, and this is Stewart Ackerley from Ravenclaw. He was a bit ahead of us at Hogwarts."

"Hello," Draco said, and shook Ackerley's hand.

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Perhaps it was the wine, Harry's delicious roast lamb and potatoes, or Stewart's truly terrible puns. 

Perhaps it was Luna's camera, the mix of two from each house, or the promise that while the photos would go public, the transcript would not.

Perhaps it was the second bottle of wine, or the way they fell to telling stories about their old teachers.

It could have been any of those things. Or none. Or all. But Pansy and Hermione not only made sure that Draco would be the last guest to leave, but Harry and Draco barely objected to the manipulation.

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"Let me help you clear up," Draco said quietly. "They've abandoned you."

"I," Harry hesitated and looked down at his wand. "It's, no trouble?"

"I want to help," Draco said, his cheeks colouring.

Harry wanted to kiss him.

"Ok," he agreed, feeling like an idiot. With magic everything was clean and put away in minutes.

"What do you want to do with the rest of this bottle of wine?" Draco wondered. "There's only about a third left."

"Would you, er, share it with me?" Harry said uncomfortably.

Draco looked up, his eyes shining with hope. "I'd love to," he said.

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Harry took two of the heavy, unadorned wine glasses he and Draco had just cleaned and put away, and fastidiously, equally, filled both until the third wine bottle was empty. 

"Are you trying to reward me for helping, or just get me drunk?" Draco asked, then turned bright pink and stammered out an apology. 

Harry put a hand on his shoulder to stop the blushing torrent. His face was hot also. "Let's, er, just sit on the sofa, all right?"

The two young men sat down; neither crammed into the corner, but with plenty of space in between them, nonetheless.

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"So," Harry began.

"How…" Draco simultaneously started. They stopped as their words blended and stared at the lively, snapping fire. 

Finally Harry began, sounding miserable. "Hermione made me." He stared at his feet, head down, hair in his eyes.

Draco wanted to kiss him.

"Pansy bribed me," Draco mumbled. "I'm glad I took the risk."

"Oh?" Harry said, turning to look. His back still bowed, wine glass in both hands.

"Because seeing you again…" Draco hesitated, "is just the right reward." He gulped the last of his wine swiftly, to avoid speaking, but when he looked again, Harry grinned shyly.

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They quickly finished the wine, then nervous and quiet, opened another. Small talk was elusive, and then that bottle was nearly empty.

"Of all the people in the universe," Harry blustered, "who would have thought you would be here, with me?"

"I should go," Draco slurred, hurt.

"No!" Harry said, far too loud. He put a hand on Draco's knee and stared pensively into his eyes. "That's not what I meant at all!" He was drunk enough now that his hand slipped, and he landed heavily in Draco's lap, spilling the last of his wine on Draco's short summer robe. 

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"Crap!" Harry said with real dismay. "I spilled all over you!"

Draco blushed hard enough to curl his hair from the steam. Nothing came out of his mouth.

"I can fix this!" Harry cried out, still too loud, his movements exaggerated. He drew his wand and Draco cringed away slightly. Harry was a little too drunk to cast, surely? Could he stop him, though?

"Universal Evanesco!"

"Eep!" Draco cried, completely naked on Harry's couch. He grabbed the itchy wool blanket off the back and pulled it up to his chin. He watched Harry's eyes stare hungrily, then dim with disappointment.

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"That's the universal vanishing spell, not the specific one!"

"Oops?" Harry said. "I'll get a robe? I'm sorry."

"Sorry you cast badly, or sorry you can't see me naked anymore?" Draco huffed with embarrassment. He was surely red enough now to kindle this blanket.

"Er," Harry said inarticulately, then rushed upstairs, muttering about robes. He returned in minutes with a fashionable light blue summer robe, trimmed in gold braid. It looked very good quality.

"Here," Harry said, and held it out for Draco to step into. "My, er, eyes are closed?"

Draco dropped the blanket and pulled the robe closed. 

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"It's lovely," Draco said uncertainly. 

"From Ginny," Harry frowned. 

"Oh?" Draco wondered how in the universe he'd ended up wearing a gift from Harry's girlfriend, and how to Floo out before he embarrassed himself any further. This was now an official disaster.

"A goodbye present," Harry muttered at the floor. "When I told her I was, well…."

Primly, Draco sat back down. His breeches and pants were gone, but this sentence deserved his attention. He vowed to say nothing until Harry finished it. 

Draco stared expectantly at Harry, who blushed and stammered.

Harry sat down too. "Gay," he finally finished. 

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"Ah," Draco said. He felt intrigued, hopeful, and completely inadequate.

"Is that your only response?" Harry whinged.

"Er, no?" Draco said, gathering courage. "Pansy, uh, reacted differently. When I, I mean, told her. That."

"You too?" Harry said, smiling tentatively. "I, had, er, hoped." He blushed crimson again.

"Yes," Draco said, swallowing once. "She laughed at me, actually." He ducked his head and smiled at his lap, embarrassed. "She was amazed that I thought she needed to be told. She said I was the gayest boy in the universe. She claimed to have known for two years. Longer than me!"

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Later, they lay sated, naked, smiling in Harry's magically enlarged bed. 

"Pansy pushed me to ask you out," Draco finally confessed to the ceiling.

"Hermione," Harry admitted to the mattress.

Draco leaned on one elbow and traced a spiral on Harry's chest. "Why didn't you?" 

"I was scared. You?" Only then could Harry look in Draco's eye.

"Scared," Draco muttered. 

"Well," Harry laughed happily. "Of all the universe, who could have imagined **I** 'd be the one Pansy would push you toward!" He grinned.

"Or Hermione me!" Draco answered, equally surprised.

"Glad they did," Harry said, and snuggling close, they slept.

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*fin*


End file.
